The Chronicles of Merope
by Ariana Peverell
Summary: Merope's life, from birth to death, and in between, this is her story.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Well, I decided to write a story that's been lurking in my head for quite some time now. I've always wanted more about Merope Gaunt. I think she's quite interesting, I mean, think about it, she's a CANON descendent of Salazar, NOT a Mary-Sue descendent, she's Voldie's mum, and she fits into the category of stupidly hyphenated names (Boy-Who-Lived, Man-Who-Won, The-Only-One-He-Ever-Feared (Dumbles), The-Only-One-Who-Ever-Loved-Him). Note: Merope's mother calls her 'Merry', because I don't think her mother would call her three-year-old daughter by her long, difficult name, and I thought 'Merry' was a suitable nickname. I think she needs more fics. So here's mine.

See homepage for disclaimer. I do, however, own Mia Gaunt.

The Merope Chronicles

Chapter 1

The Girl in Grey

Merope Gaunt was born to Mia and Marvolo Gaunt.

Fate had never dealt a crueler hand.

She was not a pretty baby, years of inbreeding had seen to that, but she was sweet and happy. Her older brother, Morfin, adored her, and her mother loved her.

Our story picks up when Merope was but three, and this is, some have speculated, the defining moment that would shape – and continues to shape – the world.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Flowers.

They were everywhere. Buttercups, violets, bluebells, daisies, snowdrops, a few late crocuses, and primroses. And, Merope being a three-year-old girl, there was only one course of action, picking armful after armful of them, presenting them to her mother, and somehow expecting her to squeeze all of them in the one vase that the Gaunts owned.

Merope finished picking the flowers, her arms chock-full of them, and made her way back to the small, two-roomed cottage that she called her home.

"Mother! I'm back! Guess what I got!" she yelled.

Her mother was at the fireplace, stirring that night's dinner – probably a stew of some sort.

"What is it, Merry?" she said, kneeling down to hug her daughter.

"Fwowers! Mother, I found this biiiiiig field," Merope held her arms apart, "And it was filled wif fwowers! I brought them home!"

Merope thrust her vividly-colored bunch of flowers into her mother's arms. Mia inhaled deeply, a smile lighting up her face.

"They're beautiful! Just the thing for the table, we'll put them in a vase for dinner," she said, "Go set the table, and if you do that I'll read Babbity Rabbity to you at bedtime."

"Pwomise?"

"Yes, I promise."

Some promises cannot be kept.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

A/N: Yes, I know I'm evil for ending it here, but I need more time to work on this before publishing the rest. Think of this as a prologue.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Come on, guys, no reviews? But you do love me, don't you? Don't you want to build the self-esteem of an introverted, nerdy twelve-year-old? Please? Please? (Shame? Why would I need such a useless thing?! I have no shame when begging for reviews and I know it!)

Disclaimer: See homepage.

The Chronicles of Merope

Chapter 2

The Funeral

Merope curled up into a ball beneath her scant covers.

She had promised…

 _Dong! Dong! Dong!_

The clock is the middle of the town was ringing, still she hadn't come….

 _Dong! Dong! Dong!_

She had promised….

 _Dong! Dong! Dong!_

 _She had promised…._

 _Dong! Dong Dong!_

 _She had promised!_

 _She had PROMISED!_

The windows rattled from a vicious gust of wind, knocking over the dresser, whipping Merope's blankets away from her.

The windows shattered, and one, last, mighty wind knocked her door down with a bang.

This was the first, and the last magic Merope ever did.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

A week later, Merope was dressed in black, tears streaming down her face as her father lowered the casket into the ground.

This was the day her heart broke. But it never put itself quite back together.

A/N: This is short I know…. Review? Please? Please?


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: No reviews? *weeps* Please review? Wait – you guys _do_ love me, right? Right? Review…

Chapter 3

Tom Riddle

Merope watched him from behind a tree. She had been watching Tom Riddle for a while, now, and he had yet to notice her.

It had been five years since her mother's death, and her father and brother had gotten steadily crazier. Merope hated them.

But today, she convinced herself, today she was going to talk to him.

She stepped out from behind the tree, her old, grey smock snagging on the bushes.

"H-hello, my name's, uh, Merry," she said quickly, remembering, for the first time, her mother's old nickname.

Tom turned around, a sneer marring his features.

"I know who _you_ are," he sneered, "daughter if that tramp! Daddy told me to stay away!"

"But-"

He was already running away.

"Wait!" Merope yelled, "please, wait!"

But he was gone.

Merope stumbled forwards, tripping over a fallen branch and crashing into the ground. Her knees and elbows were ripped and bloody.

She curled up in a ball, crying. Merope didn't move until the next morning.

A/N: Review! Please review! Reviewers get cookies! Imaginary cookies!


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